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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727028">Objectively</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence'>indefensibleselfindulgence</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cutting Loose, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:08:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a slow day, a calm day. Jon finally gets invited into a group hang.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Basira Hussain &amp; Melanie King &amp; Alice "Daisy" Tonner &amp; Jonathan Sims</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gen Freeform Exchange2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Objectively</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingOnTheWalls/gifts">WritingOnTheWalls</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was shockingly hard to write but I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Objectively, objectively-” Melanie tries to say, with a straight face. “Objectively if you had to pick a cosmic horror terror to pledge your entire life to willing-” Daisy chucks an empty paper cup at her and she breaks down into a fit of laughter. </p><p>“Objectively, I'd pick neither. None.” Jon says from the couch. </p><p>“Objectively, you're no fun.” Melanie mumbles. Daisy, who's also sprawled out on the couch, taking up way more space than Jon- with her legs in his lap nodded sagely as if there was any space to have this conversation. </p><p>“I think if I had to pick, I'd go End.” Basira comes in with another bottle stolen from someone's upstairs office. It's not like any of them would get in trouble for it. “It seems low effort.” </p><p>“Ha.” Daisy's voice is dry. “All you do is research anyway.” </p><p>“Right, but, and this is very important.” She fills up a cup with amber liquid and passes it on to Jon, who's still holding his last one. Maybe it's meant for Daisy when she decided to sit up like a normal person again. “The Eye can choke.” </p><p>“Here here.” Melanie knocks back the rest of her drink and then holds out her cup. </p><p>Jon has no idea how they talked him into this- it was just another quiet day, Melanie out doing errands, Basira in the library, and Daisy and Jon in his office, recording statements- well he was recoding statements. Daisy was doing something that looked like Yoga if it was even slower. </p><p>“Jon, your turn.” Daisy nudges him with a foot and he has to lift the two cups he's holding. </p><p>“Why my turn?” </p><p>“Because you've been doing this the longest.” And after a second, “And you've had the least to drink.” </p><p>He sighs and Melanie goes off on another set of giggles. </p><p>“I don't want to be part of any of them- if we're talking about life goals and aspirations, I'd have a nice house in the country side far away from all of this. With a cat.” </p><p>“You're a cat person?” </p><p>“He is.” And Melanie fumbles to get her phone out. “Georgie showed me this for blackmail, hold on-” And before Jon can stop her, or even try to stop her, because again, drinks and legs, Melanie is showing Basira the video of Jon dancing with The Admiral. It was four in the morning, they had just gotten home from some unremarkable party and Jon had been consumed with the all too human need of bothering a cat right then. The Admiral was so soft- still is. </p><p>“Oh my god.” Basira brings the phone over so that Daisy can stare at the screen too and Jon is still helpless. He should set these down. “I don't think I've ever seen you this happy before.” </p><p>“Yes, well.” He says, face a little flushed. </p><p>“Your hair wasn't always gray?” </p><p>“Of course it wasn't!” </p><p>He didn't know that Georgie had filmed him until she had shown it to him a few weeks later. </p><p>“Jon!” He almost jumps when Melanie calls his name. “Jon. Answer the question.” </p><p>“I don't know.” The video finally quiets down. “Spiral, I guess?” </p><p>“Justification?” </p><p>“Do I need one?” Jon sighs. A justification- “Free travel, I guess.” </p><p>“Why not vast then?” </p><p>“Scared of heights.” </p><p>“Huh.” Daisy says, a grin on her face. “Makes sense considering you're tiny.” </p><p>“I'm a perfectly normal height, thank you very much. It's not my fault all of you are so tall.” </p><p>“Melanie's only a higher bigger.” </p><p>“It's still not my fault, certainly.” And he finally pushes Daisy's cup into her hands. She's going to spill it on herself but that's no longer something Jon entirely wants to prevent. “What about you then?” </p><p>“I've thought about this before.” At stakeouts, she means. Jon doesn't blame her. It's a lot of time spent doing very little. Not that- Not that he ever went on one, but- “I think maybe I wouldn't hate the heights as much.” </p><p>“Really?” Basira doesn't sound all that surprised. “You did always want to travel.” </p><p>“Would it be so bad to just, get out there? Aside from the heights.” Another nudge with her heel. Jon can't blame her, the temptation after what they've been through is certainly there for him. He can't imagine what that desired weightlessness must be like for her. </p><p>“And you, Melanie.” </p><p>“I don't know.” Basira laughs, and Jon's glad. Glad, now, that they talked him into this. It's nice, listening to them be happy with him. </p><p>“You brought it up.” </p><p>“Come on.” Jon smiles now. “Objectively, if you had to.” </p><p>“Yeah, well. Objectively, I'm fine with End too.” </p><p>“What-” Jon, Basira, and Daisy all say it in unison, varying inflections but indignation all there. “Be original!” </p><p>“Listen-” Melanie giggles again, light, airy, followed by more drink- “Low effort is worth a lot. I'm a chief researcher- I'd love to sit on my ass all day.” </p><p>“Then you'd just end up like Jon. No offense, Jon.” </p><p>“I mean it's partially true, at least.” </p><p>“I don't know.” She smiles again- almost privately- and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Something comfortable about inevitability.” </p><p>It rests in the air, as the rest of them go quiet, until it's just their breathing and the flickering of the lights. That point in the party- the lull, he guesses. It's not nearly as awkward as he thought it would be, maybe because they're all a little day drunk or maybe because he's gotten so used to Daisy being quiet beside him and it's just like that, but more. </p><p>He never would have met any of them- well Melanie maybe eventually, through Georgie at Some point, but he likes to think they're friends. Or at least friendly. He knows with some misplaced confidence or maybe divine intervention that he and Daisy are friends, truly. They don't have a lot of talking points outside of work, sure, but true friendship can be found in comfortable silence. </p><p>“Do you like books?” He asks out of the blue- true and natural curiosity. </p><p>“They're all right.” Basira says. “Do you still read?” </p><p>“I used to, when I was younger. When I was eight.” </p><p>“Younger younger.” Melanie says, like a clarification. “Audio books are fine sometimes. For commutes, or whatever.”  </p><p>“That feels like a betrayal somehow.” Jon clears his throat. “To the authorial intent.” </p><p>“God.” Daisy's head is dipped all the way back over the arm of the couch. “You're so pretentious.” </p><p>“I'm sorry we can't all listen to radio plays.” </p><p>“Oh, you can listen to them. You just choose not too because you think you're above common folk entertainment.” </p><p>“You can like soap operas.” Basira's smiling from her seat. “No one but Jon is going to think less of you for liking soap operas.” </p><p>“I'm not going to think less of you for liking your repetitive family drama.” That gets him a kick in the ribs and half of his drink down the front of his shirt. “Daisy-” Melanie, who was already busy snickering from her seat, starts laughing in earnest. Basira in her infinite kindness passes a stack of napkins over. </p><p>“Whoops.” Daisy's up now, sitting and dabbing away at his shirt.</p><p>“It's fine. You didn't mean it.” </p><p>“Yeah.” It's a small thing, her taking the time and effort to try and clean up the stain slowly forming across his shirt. It still makes him happy, in some small way, that someone is bothering to, that his first impulse isn't to snap and lurch away. </p><p>“Are we winding down?” Basira gets up. “I still have research.” </p><p>“You're drunk.” </p><p>“That's what's going to make this fun.” She puts a hand on Daisy's shoulder before leaving as quietly as she came in the first time. </p><p>“What about you?” Jon asks, looking up. “Any work?” </p><p>“None that I'm going to do.” Melanie sighs. “Maybe I'll head out early, call all of this pregaming.” </p><p>“Stay safe.” Daisy calls, not even bothering to look up. </p><p>“You two also as well. Both of you two too. Hm.” Melanie gets up. “No good way to say that.” </p><p>“Just you too?” </p><p>“Well I didn't want to leave Jon out.” </p><p>“I appreciate the sentiment. Tell Georgie-” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” </p><p>And then it's just Jon and Daisy, kind of drunk in the break room. </p><p>“How did you know she was heading to see Georgie?” </p><p>“I- Oh.” Jon sighs. “You know.” And Daisy, his friend, his maybe only friend who he's on really good terms with, pats his head like he's five. “What are you doing?” </p><p>“Comforting you.” </p><p>“Ah.” </p><p>“Should I stop?” </p><p>“I- No. No. It's nice. That's nice, just like, objectively. Are you drunk?" She shrugs. </p><p>"Does it matter?"</p><p>"Not- Not really. You just don't usually-"</p><p>"I don't usually need to comfort you. If you hate it I can stop."</p><p>"I already told you, I don't mind."</p><p>"Uh huh." She says slowly, and pats his head just a little harder, like she's trying to a prove a point. "Your hair is soft, actually."</p><p>"Why do you sound surprised."</p><p>"You look like you have old man hair."</p><p>"I'm thirty."</p><p>"And yet your hair- easily eighty." Basira comes back four and a half hours later.</p><p>They haven't moved.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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